Disclaimer: I do not own any SW characters or related items. So there!
But keep your grimy hands off of Kelly and her peeps!! *growls*
Mormon Ponderings and the Such...
Kelly stared at him in disbelief. She examined him carefully. His longish light brown hair with blonde highlights. His entrancing brown eyes behind his new, smaller glasses. His newly acquired braces. His hair was well groomed and he was decked out in new clothes. She couldn't find any trace of falsehood in his face. "You're kidding me, right?" she asked, laughing. She noted he was holding up her checkout line.
"No," he said, then repeated his question.
Kelly was still shocked. "Um... Can you come back at six? You're holding up the line."
"Oh, sure," he said and, smiling, left.
At six, Kelly finished her shift and locked up just as he walked up. "Hey," he said. "How's it going?"
"Fine," she said, pocketing her keys and pulling on her coat "About what you asked me—"
"Yeah?"
"What was it again? Busy day, y'know, stuff leaves the memory bank," Kelly said as they walked down the street.
He sighed and said, "I wanted to know if you would like to go out sometime."
"Oh, yeah... Y'know, Morton, I'm not sure if I'll have the time," she said, as they reached her black Jeep. "I'll give you a call, though. All right?" Kelly got into her Jeep and drove away as fast as she could without looking back. Oh, ye gods! She thought, turning into her driveway. The man murdered his ex-wife!
"How could he expect me to date him when I know that?" she thought aloud, tossing her coat and purse onto the couch. "I thought he was smarter than that!"
The red light of her answering machine was blinking. Kelly pressed the play button and busied herself with the fridge. As she dug around for a bottle of water, she heard her mother's voice sound in the kitchen, "Kelly, it's your mother. I really wish you'd come back to Utah instead of living out there by yourself in Maine. I mean, how safe can it be? What, with that crazy man killing everyone? Kelly, please come back to Utah." Click.
Kelly found her water and chugged it, thinking. Now she was definitely staying at Tashmore Lake, living down the road from Morton Rainey. Especially since her mother asked her to go back to Mormon central. She loved the people of her church, but sometimes too much of them is a bad thing.
It wasn't that she fell away from the church when her husband died. It was she sometimes had to work on Sundays and without her daughter around to get her going to meetings when she didn't have to work, it was getting harder and harder to go. Kelly went upstairs after erasing her mother's message and flopped into her large armchair. She had a nice, small ward in Maine, but it was nothing like the one she and her husband went to in California. That one made hers in Maine down right puny. Kelly just found it easier to go to meetings when she had someone to go with...
Absently, she picked up her scriptures and opened to Proverbs where she had left off. Without really looking for any answers to any questions she had, she began reading. Hours passed by as she read the words of Solomon.
The ringing doorbell jarred her out of the passages about vile women that she found amusing to no end. Placing her quad on the side table, she hurried to answer the door. It was Morton. "Oh, hello, Mort," she said. "Did you forget something?"
"No, not really..." he said quietly, not actually looking at her properly.
Kelly ran a hand through her bouncy red hair. "Then what is it?" she asked, wanting to get back to her reading.
He held out a manuscript. "Just thought you might wanna read it since you're a publisher and everything. Here. Return it when you're done." Thrusting the manuscript into her hand, he left without another word.
"Hm," Kelly murmured as she closed the door. She read the title:
Diary of his FallenAngel
By: Morton Rainey
"Sounds interesting," she muttered, returning to her big, comfy armchair. She turned to the first page and read:
Chapter One:
The year was 1881. The day, 23 September. I was nearing my twenty-sixth year, when Ryan Fehr strolled into town.
The night before, a major fire destroyed around half of our federal buildings. Naturally, everyone blamed me, and sent me about my duties as Town Disaster Manager. Which meant I was in charge of cleaning up.
Of course, this was purely improper for a lady to do, but then, no on in Tombstone, Arizona ever considered me a lady. I never fit the description. Accustomed to attend the Birdcage Theatre unaccompanied in the evenings, then spending the rest of the night dealing poker at The Oriental Saloon for Milt, I was looked down upon by the other 'ladies' of town. The men never gave me a second glance. I was greatly ignored by the rest of the silver mining town.
Wonderful. Another Saturday morning ruined because I had to go and 'cause' a giant fire in the middle of the bank last night, I thought bitterly as I swept the ashes from what remained of the half stone, half wooden Town Hall.
"Oh, Cassidy, darling, be a dear and stay out of town next weekend. It's my daughter's wedding, and frankly, m'dear, I don't want any fires turning her big day into ashes and soot," Mrs. Kirkwood said to me as she passed by, not bothering herself with a 'how do you do.' She simply smiled at me, using my last name if it were my first, then going on her merry way, side-stepping the smoldering piles of burned wood that were at one point our federal buildings.
Wonderful. I was just asked to skip town when my cousin is getting married. She asked me to be the Maid of Honor, too! Funny her name is Kirkwood, now that I think about it. Mayhap a fire will burn Mrs. Kirkwood's house instead of her Kate's wedding, I thought, looking up at the beautiful stonework of the once marvelous building.
"Cassidy, get your head outta the clouds, girl, and take a gander at what's commin' our way!" Keely, my fifteen-year-old sister said, pointing to an extremely handsome stranger, who was indeed headed in our direction.
"Keely, it's impolite to point. Besides, he only looks like he's walking over to us. Why would he? Get back to work, goose," I said, using my long-time nickname for the oftentimes-silly girl.
"Ain't he a sure purdy sight for sore eyes? An' mine're sore from watching you burn down most of the town last night," she said, returning to her task of scrubbing down the soot- blackened walls. "Honestly, girl, what possessed you t' start it, anyway? Were you mad about summat?"
"Keely Ailill Cassidy! What have I told you time and again? I never cause these mishaps. They just happen."
"Yeah, only when you're around. It's like you're a bad talisman, or summat, Cassidy. It's kinda scary. Makin' me and th' other girls a might afraid, if you know what I mean," Keely drawled. She had just read Mark Twain's The Adventures of Tom Sawyer for the first time last week and had become obsessed with the novel I had recommended her. Now, I regretted the decision of having her read it, for she had begun to adapt the slang language of the young boy after whom the book was titled.
"Now, Keely, be fair—"
"Miss Cassidy didn't mean any harm if it truly is she who is at fault, Miss Keely, I'm sure," a gorgeous tenor voice said behind me as I saw my younger sister's eyes grow wide.
I turned and saw the handsome stranger that Keely had pointed out standing in the doorway of the ruined Town Hall.
Slightly bowing in respect for the man, I said, "I'm sorry, but I don't believe we've met before."
"No, we have not. For I'm sure I would remember such a lovely young lady such as you," he said, bowing in return. "My name is Ryan Fehr. If I'm not very much mistaken, yours are indeed Cassidy and Keely?"
"Actually, 'er name's Eilis Ciara Cassidy. But everyone calls 'er Cassidy. She 'ates it though," Keely said, eagerly pumping Ryan Fehr's outstretched hand.
"Eilis Ciara Cassidy? That's a right pretty name if never I heard one, Miss Cassidy. What would you prefer me call you?" he said, smiling at me.
I at once felt my heart fill with suspicion. That's one of my problems; I can tell right away if I don't particularly care for someone. Ryan Fehr, as polite as he was, was someone I didn't like. He was too polite. It bothered me. "Eilis is fine. I don't really mind being called anything but, 'hey, witch, move.' Other than that, you can decide for yourself," I said, politely holding out my hand for him to shake, as was common for the men in Tombstone and generally everywhere in Arizona. I found this true in the town I had lived in California for a number of years.
Rather than shake my hand as he did my sister's, Ryan Fehr took it and kissed just behind my knuckles like the gentlemen used to do when they were really gentlemen, not the scrap piles I was accustomed to seeing around town—you know the type: boorish, dependent slobs, also known as the Cowboys. And, rather than drop my hand as quickly as possible, as everyone was prone to do, for fear they would catch my so-called "curse", Ryan Fehr caressed it gently, causing me to blush a furious crimson color. This was a result of my being offended he would take such liberties with me. Most gentlemen would never dare do this to a girl who already had another man after her. Of course, no one actually knew he was after me. My father did, but that's an entirely other story to be told at a later date.
"Eilis, would you mind accompanying me for dinner this evening? I'm new in town and I'd rather enjoy your company and judgment on the restaurants here. Or saloons, whichever you prefer," he said, his dark blue eyes looking deep into my forest green.
Go out to dinner with him? Is he mad? Does he know who's already claimed me for his own? I thought wildly as my sister voiced what other townsfolk would prefer never to hear, "I dunno if you wanna do that, Mr. Fehr. Cassidy, well, she's got a curse on 'er summat terrible. Last night, for example, she set this 'alf of town ablaze with fire! Looky 'ere what it did! All 'round us, the results of Cassidy's curse. She's 'ad it since before I can remember."
I looked at her with fire in my eyes, but Ryan Fehr's own pair seemed to hypnotize me, strangely enough. I'm not one to be held under a spell very easily, and this irritated me. "It was just the three buildings on these somewhat empty lots here," I said, evenly.
"It looks like 'alf the town, Cassidy!
"A curse, you say, Miss Keely? Are you the expert on your sister's condemnation, then? If you are, I'd love to hear more about it," Fehr said, tenderly letting go of my hand, and turning to the girl who insisted on using such horrible grammar.
Finally! He let go of me. I was beginning to feel like a hound that's under leash, I thought. And how did he know we were sisters?
Keely silently (thank the Saints) shook her magnificent head of long honey brown hair that was currently pinned up and away from her face.
"All right then—"How dare he take that tone with my sister? I thought angrily. It was all I could do from balling up my fists and letting him have it. Keely and I didn't have a very good relationship, another story to be told at another time, but she was my younger sister and it infuriated me when men took advantage of her fifteen year old innocence. "Miss Eilis? Is six o'clock a decent time for dinner?" Fehr asked, returning his impenetrable gaze to me.
"That sounds fine."
"I'll pick you up at your house—"
"Why don't we meet there? 'Twouldn't take as much time," I offered, trying to spare myself at least a few more minutes of this ass's company.
"A beautiful young lady shouldn't be walking around town alone at night," he countered, a flame sparking in his eyes.
"I can handle myself, thank you very much."
"It's true, she can," Keely interjected in my defense. I knew she could tell I didn't like him.
"I will not permit it. What would your father say?" Fehr asked us both.
"I don't know. I haven't spoken to him since I was eighteen," I said, feeling tears of grief welling up in my eyes. Damn my connection with my father, I thought bitterly.
"Why on earth not?"
"He was killed in Burnet, Texas, but we don't know by whom," I said, trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to betray my grief. If there was one thing I didn't want this man to see, it was my compassionate side.
"Well, she knows, she just won't tell us, Mr. Fehr. She's hiding it for some reason," Keely peered curiously at me, hoping I would reveal who the murder was. Let her wallow in her curiosity. After all, mother knows and doesn't want her two precious daughters to find out because he's frequently in town, I thought.
"Fine, but Miss Eilis, I refuse to let you wander this town alone. What with the Cowboys running amok, who knows what could happen to you. Your address, please?" Fehr asked, or rather demanded.
I reluctantly gave it. Thankfully, I was able to hide my reluctance to giving my house numbers to a compete stranger. This is more dangerous than walking around Tombstone at night. At least I know where to avoid, but now... Now, this jackass knows where I live, I thought as Fehr wrote the numbers on a strip of paper and returning it to his pocket. Before he left, Fehr leaned towards me and kissed me on my right cheek, causing my anger to rise violently. Smiling at Keely, he took his leave. Watching his retreat, I gripped my broom so hard, it almost broke in my grasp.
"Cassidy, your gonna 'urt 'im tonight. You know that, don't you? Whether it be you curse, or just your manner, 'e's gonna be sorry he took you out to dinner," Keely warned me.
"Oh, Keely! You're just jealous!"
"Jealous of you? What're you talkin' about, Cassidy? I can see it in your eyes. You don't like 'im one bit."
"You're right. I don't."
Kelly was startled out of her reading when her black and white tomcat, Bump jumped onto her lap and decided he wanted to cuddle. "Bump, I don't have time for this now. Mr. Rainey was kind enough to give me work. Go on, scat!" She gently pushed him to the floor and stood. Deciding she would finish reading the manuscript later that evening when she could think clearly (i.e., after midnight), Kelly pulled on a sweatshirt and left the house in search of the solitude of the serene trails and paths around her cabin.
Once out in the biting chill of the autumn air, Kelly took a deep breath and savored the scent of the locals starting their backyard fire pit gatherings. She jammed her hands into her pockets and wandered down towards the lake. The trail there was a rock strewn one. There was an area where she had to do a little bit of rock climbing to get past, but she didn't mind it. The end reward was worth the trouble in her opinion.
After twenty minutes of hiking, Kelly reached the lakeside at twilight, wishing she had brought her digital camera and flashlight. Sighing, she took off her socks and shoes and sat on the sandy shore, watching the last of the boats dock. She laid down in the sand and thought about her late husband.
Scot had been your typical Mormon boy who went on his mission, then moved back to the district he served in. Kelly had finished schooling by then and had moved to Arizona to try living someplace she could afford. She and Scot met at a single adult conference/dance thing. They were taken with each other immediately. There was something about Scot that Kelly loved, but couldn't quite identify. He was taller with white blond hair, blue eyes and a gorgeous smile. Maybe it was that smile of his she fell in love with. He had the personality of a six year old with a brand new toy. There was never a dull day when he was still alive.
A single, silent tear rolled down Kelly's face. Scot had died of emphysema. His father wasn't a member of the church and he smoked heavily in the house and around Scot even though his mother pleaded with him not to. Scot had suffered second-hand smoke, in reality much more dangerous since it's unfiltered, and lived the last ten years of his shortened life coughing up what little good lung tissue he had left. Kelly felt so alone when he had finally passed on to a better place.
For a while, it was just Kelly and her four-year-old daughter, Ashley. Ashley had a younger brother, too, but Kelly lost him to SIDS when he was a year and a half old. Kelly raised Ashley completely on her own. When Ashley was eight years old, they moved to Utah for a while so Ashley's grandpa could baptize her a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter- Day Saints. A few months afterwards, Kelly took her daughter to Maine where they remained ever since. Until, the fateful day three months after Ashley's sixteenth birthday.
Ashley had been out driving with her boyfriend when a drunk idiot swerved into their lane. There was no place for Josh to turn or go. The two vehicles met in a head-on collision. Ashley was killed on impact. Josh broke his neck and later, died in the hospital. Kelly didn't much care about the idiot who killed her only surviving child.
Ashley was so beautiful. Kelly always felt she looked more like Scot than she did her. She had Scot's bright, blue eyes and the charming smile. But she also had Kelly's thick, red hair and ability to tan easily and avoid sunburns. Kelly wanted to curse the man for killing her baby. There was nothing she wanted more than her family back.
Kelly had been seven months on her own when Morton asked her on a date. She didn't think she was ready to start dating again, though... That, and everyone in town believed—or thought the knew—that he had killed Tom Greenleaf, Greg Carstairs, his ex, Amy, and her lover, Ted. Kelly's mother even thought that it was Morton who killed Ashley. Kelly never paid her notion ay attention since she was prone to jump to conclusions.
"How's the sand?"
Kelly opened her eyes to find Morton Rainey standing over her, a small smile on his face. He had brought a flashlight. "Perfect. Y'know, I don't remember it being this dark when I came down here. I must've fallen asleep," she said.
"You come down everyday at twilight; of course it's gonna be darker."
"Gotcha." She stood and brushed the sand from her clothes. With skill from so much practice, she managed to shake out her socks and put them on followed by her shoes without sitting down again. When she was done, she smiled at Morton and turned to leave.
"Wait! Do you want me to walk you so you don't have to walk in the dark?" he asked, catching up with her.
Kelly was taken aback. First by his knowledge that she took this walk everyday, then by his offer to escort her home. She thought it was really sweet of him and she was beginning to think she'd start dating him just to spite her mother. No, she thought. That's just mean on my part. He doesn't deserve that. "Sure. Thanks."
"No problem."
They walked in silence until they were at the fork in the path that led to their houses. To get home, Kelly would have to take the left. But Morton would have to take the right. "I guess this is where we part ways, then?" she asked.
Morton shrugged, seeming to not want her to leave. "I guess... Did you read it?"
"Hm? Oh! I read some of it before Bump started jumping on me," she answered. "I like it so far. You haven't ever written from a woman's perspective before. Have you?"
"Uh, no. Just thought I'd try something new."
"Well, I like it. I'll read some more and talk to you tomorrow, all right?"
"Sure. Good night."
"Good night."
And so they parted ways. Kelly to the left, Morton to the right. Once home, Kelly collapsed on her large bed and began reading again. Around when midnight struck, she carefully placed the manuscript in her desk drawer and turned out the light. As always, she took her shower in complete darkness; it helped her think.
One of the benefits of living alone is you can talk to yourself without people thinking you've lost your mind, "He seems really nice even though say he's a horrible murderer. I never actually saw him kill anybody and I'm his closest neighbor... Dunno. Maybe it's just Dave making him a scapegoat because he's too lazy to actually find out who really did it... I might go out with him a couple of times if he asks again... Sure. Mom deserves to have grief for asking me to go back to Utah again."
~*~
The next morning, Kelly woke up, feeling the sun shining warmly on her face and smelling the enticing cent of bacon cooking. Groggily, she pulled a sweater over her boxer and tank top pajama ensemble and tied her uncombed hair into a messy braid and went downstairs to see who was in her kitchen. Yawning, she entered the kitchen and found Mort Rainey at the stove, making breakfast. Kelly leaned against the doorframe and said, "I don't believe I permitted this breakfast, Mr. Rainey. Explain yourself. How did you get in?"
Mort walked over to her and handed her a plate of bacon and eggs. "The key in your flower pot. Orange or apple?" He headed over to the fridge, waiting for her answer.
"Orange, please," she said, taking her place at the table. "Why'd you go to all the trouble? I usually just have a bagel or an apple."
Morton poured a glass of orange juice for her. "Can't I do something neighborly for my only neighbor?" he asked.
"What happened to the Hammonds? Did they move?"
"Couple of weeks ago, yeah... Well? Is it against the law for me to make you breakfast every once in a while?" Morton leaned against the counter and started eating his own bacon and eggs. He looked at her expectantly.
Kelly swallowed and said, "No... I was just surprised to find you I my kitchen. That's all."
They finished eating in comfortable silence. As Kelly cleaned up the dishes, Morton asked, "Do you have to go to work today?"
She glanced at the calendar. "No. Why?" She started the dishwasher then made her way to the stairs. He mumbled something. "Sorry?"
He cleared his throat and said, "I wanted to know if you wanted to do something."
Kelly stopped halfway up the stairs, her hand on the seemingly randomly placed door to her right. She turned and looked down at him. "I'm sorry, Morton, but I have a lot to do today. Maybe tonight, okay? Thank you for breakfast; it was the best I've had in a while!" she said, then disappeared upstairs to change. As she shut the bedroom door, she distinctly heard Morton mutter, "Why do I get the feeling you'd rather not be around me?"
Kelly changed into her jeans and black t-shirt reading "Elen sila lumann' omentielvo" in white script on the front with a single silver star on the back, by the bottom. Once she was decent and after she brushed her hair out of the knots and snares, Kelly flew down the stairs and out the front door, calling, "Morton!" Kicking herself mentally for thinking he'd still be in her yard, Kelly started running to his cabin.
When she passed by the tree house she and Ashley built the first summer they were at Tashmore Lake, she heard Morton call, "If you're looking for me, you needn't run so far, Mrs. Dryden."
Kelly slid to a stop and looked up at him. "What're you doing up there?" she asked, grabbing the ladder and starting her ascent.
"Oh, you know, the usual: Sitting, breathing, digesting breakfast, thinking how cute you look climbing up like you used to do," he said as she neared him. Kelly ignored the last as she pulled herself into the tree house and sat next to him. "Nice shirt. Care to share what it means?" She shook her head and waited. "So why have you sought me out in this tree house you yourself so frequently occupy?"
"Well, first off, I'm wondering why you're in my tree house to begin with," Kelly said, a smile playing at her lips. A cloud blew away from the morning sun, letting pure celestial light shine upon her. The light created a sort of a halo around her, shining brilliantly off her fiery red hair. The green of her eyes shone through radiantly, giving them an immortal look. With the small smile playing games with her, she looked almost heavenly sitting among the green branches of the tree house. "But the main reason is I wanted to talk to you about something."
Morton nodded. "Did you know that you look like an angel right now?"
Kelly opened her mouth to say something, then closed it, a confused look on her face. "Darn it! You made me forget what I was going to say! And I do not look like an angel right now!"
Morton was serious, though. "No, you do. You really do. With the sunlight shinning on you this way—in this perfect way, you really do. The color of your hair and eyes really stand out against your surroundings and skin. That smile doesn't hurt, either," he said, lightly touching her cheek.
"Morton, I'm trying to be serious for once in my life."
"And I am serious, Kelly. You look spectacular."
Kelly felt her cheeks flush. She was beginning to feel like a high school girl who was finally getting the attention from the guys she needed. "Morton, I'm sorry if I appear to be avoiding you. It's just... What they're saying about you in town at the diner and what people have told me—warning me, really—about being your neighbor may mean my life really has discouraged me from extending our friendship from mere acquaintances. I'm sorry, but we didn't really know each other very well before the whole 'Shooter' episode happened. If we did, maybe I'd be a little more inclined to trust you enough to be around you more often," she said telling him the stars' honest truth. "I'm really sorry, but that's how I feel about it. I don't mean to be rude or anything, believe me. That's the last thing I want. You just kinda scare me a little. That's all."
He seemed to be contemplating what she said. After a few seconds, he said, "So, if I didn't scare you, you would be more willing to open our lines of communication?"
Kelly nodded, feeling her high school giddiness disappear. Here was an extremely handsome man, sitting in her tree house of all places, telling her she looked angelic, trying to make a relationship work. The sight was not one she would see in a long while, but she didn't feel pressed to savor it. There were rumors flying through town about him and she didn't know if she should trust him or the rumors.
Before Kelly could do anything, he left, nodding a farewell. She didn't call after him as she did before, but leaned against the tree and thought of a way to make up the grievance she gave him...
That evening, while Morton was out taking a walk, Kelly snuck into his cabin and did the only thing a single Mormon woman could do: she made him dinner. They had perfect timing, too. Morton walked in just as Kelly set the table ignoring the word, "Shooter" carved into the beautiful cherrywood table.
He walked into the kitchen, looked around, slightly surprised to find the corn cleared away and stacked, ad asked, "Where did you come from?"
"Well, I'm your neighbor, but I was born in Salt Lake," she said, dishing up a plate of homemade ravioli. "Now sit. This ravioli won't eat itself."
Morton did as she bade and ate while Kelly started cleaning up the mess of a house. The first thing she did was dump all the age-old leftovers down the drain and run the disposal before putting their containers in the dishwasher. She was glad she organized the corn when she did since she didn't think she would've been able to do after examining the fridge. Morton was done eating by the time Kelly was done with the fridge. Without really saying a word, she moved onto the living room and did what she could until Morton stopped her, holding two steaming mugs. "It's all right. Cider." Kelly smiled and accepted the offer before sitting on the couch with him.
She noted an odd feature of the worn couch. "Nice groove you have there. I take it you sleep better on the couch than in your own bed?" she asked, smiling in amusement.
"Welcome to the World-Famous Mort Rainey Sofa, also known as The Couch of the Comatose Writer," he declared proudly. "And, yes, I do sleep better here."
Kelly laughed and nearly spilled her cider. "How typical of an author," she mused, sipping her warm drink, grateful that he honored the fact that she didn't drink coffee or tea even though he had an abundance of both.
Mort chuckled and asked, "Well? What's typical of a publisher? I noticed you've spent a lot of time in that charming tree house of yours."
She thought about it, holding her mug with both hands. "I suppose—at least for me—that the typical publisher falls into the habit of reading after midnight. And..."
Morton saw there were tears glistening her emerald eyes. "And?" he pressed gently.
Kelly wiped her eyes and said, "Once they feel alone, or really are alone, they become used to it and sometimes never again wish for companionship... I'm sorry; I didn't mean—" She was crying openly and place her mug of cider on the coffee table.
Mort set down his own drink and gently pulled her into a warm, strong hug. Kelly sobbed quietly into his shoulder and wrapped her arms around him, closing the embrace. They sat there, in each other's arms, for a few minutes. Morton laid his head on hers and noticed her hair smelled presently of apples; he liked it. Kelly, after her crying ceased, still held onto him and took in the enticing scent of the shaving cream he had used that morning.
When Kelly pulled away from him, she found that she didn't really want to. This sudden feeling of reluctance startled her. She didn't think she was ready to get into another relationship yet, even though she had been widowed for nearly thirteen years by then. "Thank you," she whispered, drying her eyes.
Morton looked at her seriously and said quietly, "If you ever need anything, let me know. All right?"
She rubbed her eyes, nodded and muttered, "Yeah, sure." When she lowered her hands, she realized how close she and Morton were sitting. A pleasantly warm feeling swept over Kelly and she felt a guilty shiver of pleasure in his presence shoot down her spine.
He noticed her tremor and asked, "What is it?"
Kelly found herself on the edge of tears and again as she said, "I think I've been alone for so long and I've gotten so used to it, that..." She sighed and buried her face in her hands.
Morton pulled her into his arms and held her, savoring the warmth animating from her and the ease he felt holding her. Running his fingers through her silky hair, he said, "You've gotten so used to being alone that you're afraid, aren't you?" She nodded. He loosened his grip on her, lifted her chin and murmured, "You shouldn't be afraid, Kelly. It's high time you start anew..."
He slowly leaned in towards her. Kelly hesitated, slightly pulling back. "Don't be afraid. I'm not gonna hurt you. I swear it..." he said even more quietly. Then, without her hesitation, Morton pulled Kelly closer and, after a brief gaze into her enchanting eyes, he kissed her.
Since it had been nearly thirteen years since Kelly had been kissed, she had forgotten how it made her feel to be so close to someone she either loved or had the potential of loving. She could feel the writer's strong hands on her back, upper and lower, holding her closer to him than she would have cared to be the day before. Kelly slipped her left arm around his shoulders and ran the slender fingers of her right hand through his hair, making the embrace all the more close and intense.
~*~
The next thing Kelly knew, she was waking up in Morton Rainey's bed, still clothed in her jeans and t-shirt, but missing something she held very dear: her wedding ring.
"No..." she muttered, starting to panic. It was a simple silver band, etched with "For Time and all Eternity" on the interior, true, but she grew quite fond of it and if anything should happen to it, she wouldn't know what to do. After less than a quarter of a minute, she found it resting by the lamp on the bedside table. Sighing in relief, she slipped the ring on her finger and cautiously left the room, shutting the door silently and looking for Mort. One glance downstairs told Kelly all she needed to know: he was fast asleep on the couch.
Kelly quickly tucked a blanket around him and, as she put on her sweatshirt and slung her purse over her shoulder, he muttered, "Oh, I see how it is." She looked at him, an amused smile on her face. Morton was much handsomer when he had jus woken up. His hair was in a right state, sticking up all over the place. He squinted at her not wearing his glasses. The overall effect sent butterflies fluttering in Kelly's stomach.
She dropped her purse and sat at the edge of the couch, brushed his hair from his face and asked, "How what is?"
"You entertaining my hospitality then try to sneak off while I'm still asleep," he answered, his tenor voice resonating in the back of his throat.
'Entertain his hospitality?' she thought. 'What happened last night?'
Morton pulled her to him and kissed her lightly. "Stick around, Kell. Stay a while," he said, smiling pleasantly.
"Morton, I have church—"
"I'll be over before you even get there," he said, encircling her with his strong arms. "There's only ten minutes left."
Kelly checked her watch. "It starts in ten minutes, Mort. I have to go. I need to," she kissed him lightly, then got her stuff and went home to get ready for church. Exchanging her street clothes for her jean skirt and forest green baby t-shirt, she wished she could remember what happened the night before.
As she drove to the church building, she desperately tried to remember. The last thing she wanted was to take the sacrament unworthily after she had been so good about going to meetings regularly. That particular Sunday was the first of the month—Fast Sunday. Kelly had been fasting every Sunday for a while; fasting for comfort from her Father in Heaven. The comfort seemed slow coming, she oftentimes thought. She didn't feel comfortable to go to church if she had done something she would regret if she could remember it.
When she got to the building, she had about five minutes (she lied when she told Mort she had ten minutes—she had thirty) to spare and was greeted by Bishop Little. "Good morning, Sister Dryden. How are you?"
"Fine, thank you, Bishop," she answered, adjusting her purse slightly. "Do you need me to do something?" Kelly's Bishop had a tendency to pounce right before meetings started.
"Actually, yes," he said, smiling warmly. "Would you please give a singing testimony during Sunday School today?"
Kelly blushed. She hated it when she had to give a singing testimony. It made her feel singled out because she was the only one in the ward who was asked to. "What's the topic?"
"Eternal marriages. I'm sure you can handle it?" he said, a hopeful note in his voice.
Kelly sighed, her blush dieing away. "Sure. I'll sing..."
"Who can say for certain? Maybe you're still here. I feel you all around me, You're memory's so clear. Deep in the stillness, I can hear you speak. You're still an inspiration. Can it be That you are my forever love, And you are watching over me from up above? Fly me up to where you are Beyond the distant star I wish upon tonight to see you smile, If only for a while to know you're there. A breath away's not far to where you are. Are you gently sleeping Here inside my dream? And isn't faith believing All power can't be seen? As my heart holds you Just one beat away, I cherish all you gave me every day. 'Cause you are my forever love Watching me from up above. And I believe That angels breathe And that love will live on and never leave. Fly me up to where you are Beyond that distant star I wish upon tonight to see you smile, If only for a while to know you're there. A breath away's not far to where you are. I know you're there. A breath away's not far to where you are..."
By all worldly recognition, Kelly's marriage to Scot had been terminated the moment he died. But, by Kelly's recognition, she had been married for seventeen years and counting. The sudden feelings of loss and guilt overwhelmed her. She left the room before she broke down in tears before the entire adult population of the ward. Out in the hall, Kelly leaned against the wall and tried to gain hold on her emotions. She was fighting a losing battle.
Moments later, Sister Little, her visiting teacher, entered the hall. "Kelly, talk to me. You've been overly weepy lately. What's going on?"
Kelly looked at her and said, "Y'know what, Jules? I have no idea what's going on. I don't know what to think; I don't know what to do... I'm... I'm going home. Bye." Grateful that it was the third hour, she smiled and left the building.
When she got home, an unfamiliar car was parked in the driveway. Kelly groaned, entered her house and called, "Mom? Dad? What are you doing here?"
Mormon Ponderings and the Such...
Kelly stared at him in disbelief. She examined him carefully. His longish light brown hair with blonde highlights. His entrancing brown eyes behind his new, smaller glasses. His newly acquired braces. His hair was well groomed and he was decked out in new clothes. She couldn't find any trace of falsehood in his face. "You're kidding me, right?" she asked, laughing. She noted he was holding up her checkout line.
"No," he said, then repeated his question.
Kelly was still shocked. "Um... Can you come back at six? You're holding up the line."
"Oh, sure," he said and, smiling, left.
At six, Kelly finished her shift and locked up just as he walked up. "Hey," he said. "How's it going?"
"Fine," she said, pocketing her keys and pulling on her coat "About what you asked me—"
"Yeah?"
"What was it again? Busy day, y'know, stuff leaves the memory bank," Kelly said as they walked down the street.
He sighed and said, "I wanted to know if you would like to go out sometime."
"Oh, yeah... Y'know, Morton, I'm not sure if I'll have the time," she said, as they reached her black Jeep. "I'll give you a call, though. All right?" Kelly got into her Jeep and drove away as fast as she could without looking back. Oh, ye gods! She thought, turning into her driveway. The man murdered his ex-wife!
"How could he expect me to date him when I know that?" she thought aloud, tossing her coat and purse onto the couch. "I thought he was smarter than that!"
The red light of her answering machine was blinking. Kelly pressed the play button and busied herself with the fridge. As she dug around for a bottle of water, she heard her mother's voice sound in the kitchen, "Kelly, it's your mother. I really wish you'd come back to Utah instead of living out there by yourself in Maine. I mean, how safe can it be? What, with that crazy man killing everyone? Kelly, please come back to Utah." Click.
Kelly found her water and chugged it, thinking. Now she was definitely staying at Tashmore Lake, living down the road from Morton Rainey. Especially since her mother asked her to go back to Mormon central. She loved the people of her church, but sometimes too much of them is a bad thing.
It wasn't that she fell away from the church when her husband died. It was she sometimes had to work on Sundays and without her daughter around to get her going to meetings when she didn't have to work, it was getting harder and harder to go. Kelly went upstairs after erasing her mother's message and flopped into her large armchair. She had a nice, small ward in Maine, but it was nothing like the one she and her husband went to in California. That one made hers in Maine down right puny. Kelly just found it easier to go to meetings when she had someone to go with...
Absently, she picked up her scriptures and opened to Proverbs where she had left off. Without really looking for any answers to any questions she had, she began reading. Hours passed by as she read the words of Solomon.
The ringing doorbell jarred her out of the passages about vile women that she found amusing to no end. Placing her quad on the side table, she hurried to answer the door. It was Morton. "Oh, hello, Mort," she said. "Did you forget something?"
"No, not really..." he said quietly, not actually looking at her properly.
Kelly ran a hand through her bouncy red hair. "Then what is it?" she asked, wanting to get back to her reading.
He held out a manuscript. "Just thought you might wanna read it since you're a publisher and everything. Here. Return it when you're done." Thrusting the manuscript into her hand, he left without another word.
"Hm," Kelly murmured as she closed the door. She read the title:
Diary of his FallenAngel
By: Morton Rainey
"Sounds interesting," she muttered, returning to her big, comfy armchair. She turned to the first page and read:
Chapter One:
The year was 1881. The day, 23 September. I was nearing my twenty-sixth year, when Ryan Fehr strolled into town.
The night before, a major fire destroyed around half of our federal buildings. Naturally, everyone blamed me, and sent me about my duties as Town Disaster Manager. Which meant I was in charge of cleaning up.
Of course, this was purely improper for a lady to do, but then, no on in Tombstone, Arizona ever considered me a lady. I never fit the description. Accustomed to attend the Birdcage Theatre unaccompanied in the evenings, then spending the rest of the night dealing poker at The Oriental Saloon for Milt, I was looked down upon by the other 'ladies' of town. The men never gave me a second glance. I was greatly ignored by the rest of the silver mining town.
Wonderful. Another Saturday morning ruined because I had to go and 'cause' a giant fire in the middle of the bank last night, I thought bitterly as I swept the ashes from what remained of the half stone, half wooden Town Hall.
"Oh, Cassidy, darling, be a dear and stay out of town next weekend. It's my daughter's wedding, and frankly, m'dear, I don't want any fires turning her big day into ashes and soot," Mrs. Kirkwood said to me as she passed by, not bothering herself with a 'how do you do.' She simply smiled at me, using my last name if it were my first, then going on her merry way, side-stepping the smoldering piles of burned wood that were at one point our federal buildings.
Wonderful. I was just asked to skip town when my cousin is getting married. She asked me to be the Maid of Honor, too! Funny her name is Kirkwood, now that I think about it. Mayhap a fire will burn Mrs. Kirkwood's house instead of her Kate's wedding, I thought, looking up at the beautiful stonework of the once marvelous building.
"Cassidy, get your head outta the clouds, girl, and take a gander at what's commin' our way!" Keely, my fifteen-year-old sister said, pointing to an extremely handsome stranger, who was indeed headed in our direction.
"Keely, it's impolite to point. Besides, he only looks like he's walking over to us. Why would he? Get back to work, goose," I said, using my long-time nickname for the oftentimes-silly girl.
"Ain't he a sure purdy sight for sore eyes? An' mine're sore from watching you burn down most of the town last night," she said, returning to her task of scrubbing down the soot- blackened walls. "Honestly, girl, what possessed you t' start it, anyway? Were you mad about summat?"
"Keely Ailill Cassidy! What have I told you time and again? I never cause these mishaps. They just happen."
"Yeah, only when you're around. It's like you're a bad talisman, or summat, Cassidy. It's kinda scary. Makin' me and th' other girls a might afraid, if you know what I mean," Keely drawled. She had just read Mark Twain's The Adventures of Tom Sawyer for the first time last week and had become obsessed with the novel I had recommended her. Now, I regretted the decision of having her read it, for she had begun to adapt the slang language of the young boy after whom the book was titled.
"Now, Keely, be fair—"
"Miss Cassidy didn't mean any harm if it truly is she who is at fault, Miss Keely, I'm sure," a gorgeous tenor voice said behind me as I saw my younger sister's eyes grow wide.
I turned and saw the handsome stranger that Keely had pointed out standing in the doorway of the ruined Town Hall.
Slightly bowing in respect for the man, I said, "I'm sorry, but I don't believe we've met before."
"No, we have not. For I'm sure I would remember such a lovely young lady such as you," he said, bowing in return. "My name is Ryan Fehr. If I'm not very much mistaken, yours are indeed Cassidy and Keely?"
"Actually, 'er name's Eilis Ciara Cassidy. But everyone calls 'er Cassidy. She 'ates it though," Keely said, eagerly pumping Ryan Fehr's outstretched hand.
"Eilis Ciara Cassidy? That's a right pretty name if never I heard one, Miss Cassidy. What would you prefer me call you?" he said, smiling at me.
I at once felt my heart fill with suspicion. That's one of my problems; I can tell right away if I don't particularly care for someone. Ryan Fehr, as polite as he was, was someone I didn't like. He was too polite. It bothered me. "Eilis is fine. I don't really mind being called anything but, 'hey, witch, move.' Other than that, you can decide for yourself," I said, politely holding out my hand for him to shake, as was common for the men in Tombstone and generally everywhere in Arizona. I found this true in the town I had lived in California for a number of years.
Rather than shake my hand as he did my sister's, Ryan Fehr took it and kissed just behind my knuckles like the gentlemen used to do when they were really gentlemen, not the scrap piles I was accustomed to seeing around town—you know the type: boorish, dependent slobs, also known as the Cowboys. And, rather than drop my hand as quickly as possible, as everyone was prone to do, for fear they would catch my so-called "curse", Ryan Fehr caressed it gently, causing me to blush a furious crimson color. This was a result of my being offended he would take such liberties with me. Most gentlemen would never dare do this to a girl who already had another man after her. Of course, no one actually knew he was after me. My father did, but that's an entirely other story to be told at a later date.
"Eilis, would you mind accompanying me for dinner this evening? I'm new in town and I'd rather enjoy your company and judgment on the restaurants here. Or saloons, whichever you prefer," he said, his dark blue eyes looking deep into my forest green.
Go out to dinner with him? Is he mad? Does he know who's already claimed me for his own? I thought wildly as my sister voiced what other townsfolk would prefer never to hear, "I dunno if you wanna do that, Mr. Fehr. Cassidy, well, she's got a curse on 'er summat terrible. Last night, for example, she set this 'alf of town ablaze with fire! Looky 'ere what it did! All 'round us, the results of Cassidy's curse. She's 'ad it since before I can remember."
I looked at her with fire in my eyes, but Ryan Fehr's own pair seemed to hypnotize me, strangely enough. I'm not one to be held under a spell very easily, and this irritated me. "It was just the three buildings on these somewhat empty lots here," I said, evenly.
"It looks like 'alf the town, Cassidy!
"A curse, you say, Miss Keely? Are you the expert on your sister's condemnation, then? If you are, I'd love to hear more about it," Fehr said, tenderly letting go of my hand, and turning to the girl who insisted on using such horrible grammar.
Finally! He let go of me. I was beginning to feel like a hound that's under leash, I thought. And how did he know we were sisters?
Keely silently (thank the Saints) shook her magnificent head of long honey brown hair that was currently pinned up and away from her face.
"All right then—"How dare he take that tone with my sister? I thought angrily. It was all I could do from balling up my fists and letting him have it. Keely and I didn't have a very good relationship, another story to be told at another time, but she was my younger sister and it infuriated me when men took advantage of her fifteen year old innocence. "Miss Eilis? Is six o'clock a decent time for dinner?" Fehr asked, returning his impenetrable gaze to me.
"That sounds fine."
"I'll pick you up at your house—"
"Why don't we meet there? 'Twouldn't take as much time," I offered, trying to spare myself at least a few more minutes of this ass's company.
"A beautiful young lady shouldn't be walking around town alone at night," he countered, a flame sparking in his eyes.
"I can handle myself, thank you very much."
"It's true, she can," Keely interjected in my defense. I knew she could tell I didn't like him.
"I will not permit it. What would your father say?" Fehr asked us both.
"I don't know. I haven't spoken to him since I was eighteen," I said, feeling tears of grief welling up in my eyes. Damn my connection with my father, I thought bitterly.
"Why on earth not?"
"He was killed in Burnet, Texas, but we don't know by whom," I said, trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to betray my grief. If there was one thing I didn't want this man to see, it was my compassionate side.
"Well, she knows, she just won't tell us, Mr. Fehr. She's hiding it for some reason," Keely peered curiously at me, hoping I would reveal who the murder was. Let her wallow in her curiosity. After all, mother knows and doesn't want her two precious daughters to find out because he's frequently in town, I thought.
"Fine, but Miss Eilis, I refuse to let you wander this town alone. What with the Cowboys running amok, who knows what could happen to you. Your address, please?" Fehr asked, or rather demanded.
I reluctantly gave it. Thankfully, I was able to hide my reluctance to giving my house numbers to a compete stranger. This is more dangerous than walking around Tombstone at night. At least I know where to avoid, but now... Now, this jackass knows where I live, I thought as Fehr wrote the numbers on a strip of paper and returning it to his pocket. Before he left, Fehr leaned towards me and kissed me on my right cheek, causing my anger to rise violently. Smiling at Keely, he took his leave. Watching his retreat, I gripped my broom so hard, it almost broke in my grasp.
"Cassidy, your gonna 'urt 'im tonight. You know that, don't you? Whether it be you curse, or just your manner, 'e's gonna be sorry he took you out to dinner," Keely warned me.
"Oh, Keely! You're just jealous!"
"Jealous of you? What're you talkin' about, Cassidy? I can see it in your eyes. You don't like 'im one bit."
"You're right. I don't."
Kelly was startled out of her reading when her black and white tomcat, Bump jumped onto her lap and decided he wanted to cuddle. "Bump, I don't have time for this now. Mr. Rainey was kind enough to give me work. Go on, scat!" She gently pushed him to the floor and stood. Deciding she would finish reading the manuscript later that evening when she could think clearly (i.e., after midnight), Kelly pulled on a sweatshirt and left the house in search of the solitude of the serene trails and paths around her cabin.
Once out in the biting chill of the autumn air, Kelly took a deep breath and savored the scent of the locals starting their backyard fire pit gatherings. She jammed her hands into her pockets and wandered down towards the lake. The trail there was a rock strewn one. There was an area where she had to do a little bit of rock climbing to get past, but she didn't mind it. The end reward was worth the trouble in her opinion.
After twenty minutes of hiking, Kelly reached the lakeside at twilight, wishing she had brought her digital camera and flashlight. Sighing, she took off her socks and shoes and sat on the sandy shore, watching the last of the boats dock. She laid down in the sand and thought about her late husband.
Scot had been your typical Mormon boy who went on his mission, then moved back to the district he served in. Kelly had finished schooling by then and had moved to Arizona to try living someplace she could afford. She and Scot met at a single adult conference/dance thing. They were taken with each other immediately. There was something about Scot that Kelly loved, but couldn't quite identify. He was taller with white blond hair, blue eyes and a gorgeous smile. Maybe it was that smile of his she fell in love with. He had the personality of a six year old with a brand new toy. There was never a dull day when he was still alive.
A single, silent tear rolled down Kelly's face. Scot had died of emphysema. His father wasn't a member of the church and he smoked heavily in the house and around Scot even though his mother pleaded with him not to. Scot had suffered second-hand smoke, in reality much more dangerous since it's unfiltered, and lived the last ten years of his shortened life coughing up what little good lung tissue he had left. Kelly felt so alone when he had finally passed on to a better place.
For a while, it was just Kelly and her four-year-old daughter, Ashley. Ashley had a younger brother, too, but Kelly lost him to SIDS when he was a year and a half old. Kelly raised Ashley completely on her own. When Ashley was eight years old, they moved to Utah for a while so Ashley's grandpa could baptize her a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter- Day Saints. A few months afterwards, Kelly took her daughter to Maine where they remained ever since. Until, the fateful day three months after Ashley's sixteenth birthday.
Ashley had been out driving with her boyfriend when a drunk idiot swerved into their lane. There was no place for Josh to turn or go. The two vehicles met in a head-on collision. Ashley was killed on impact. Josh broke his neck and later, died in the hospital. Kelly didn't much care about the idiot who killed her only surviving child.
Ashley was so beautiful. Kelly always felt she looked more like Scot than she did her. She had Scot's bright, blue eyes and the charming smile. But she also had Kelly's thick, red hair and ability to tan easily and avoid sunburns. Kelly wanted to curse the man for killing her baby. There was nothing she wanted more than her family back.
Kelly had been seven months on her own when Morton asked her on a date. She didn't think she was ready to start dating again, though... That, and everyone in town believed—or thought the knew—that he had killed Tom Greenleaf, Greg Carstairs, his ex, Amy, and her lover, Ted. Kelly's mother even thought that it was Morton who killed Ashley. Kelly never paid her notion ay attention since she was prone to jump to conclusions.
"How's the sand?"
Kelly opened her eyes to find Morton Rainey standing over her, a small smile on his face. He had brought a flashlight. "Perfect. Y'know, I don't remember it being this dark when I came down here. I must've fallen asleep," she said.
"You come down everyday at twilight; of course it's gonna be darker."
"Gotcha." She stood and brushed the sand from her clothes. With skill from so much practice, she managed to shake out her socks and put them on followed by her shoes without sitting down again. When she was done, she smiled at Morton and turned to leave.
"Wait! Do you want me to walk you so you don't have to walk in the dark?" he asked, catching up with her.
Kelly was taken aback. First by his knowledge that she took this walk everyday, then by his offer to escort her home. She thought it was really sweet of him and she was beginning to think she'd start dating him just to spite her mother. No, she thought. That's just mean on my part. He doesn't deserve that. "Sure. Thanks."
"No problem."
They walked in silence until they were at the fork in the path that led to their houses. To get home, Kelly would have to take the left. But Morton would have to take the right. "I guess this is where we part ways, then?" she asked.
Morton shrugged, seeming to not want her to leave. "I guess... Did you read it?"
"Hm? Oh! I read some of it before Bump started jumping on me," she answered. "I like it so far. You haven't ever written from a woman's perspective before. Have you?"
"Uh, no. Just thought I'd try something new."
"Well, I like it. I'll read some more and talk to you tomorrow, all right?"
"Sure. Good night."
"Good night."
And so they parted ways. Kelly to the left, Morton to the right. Once home, Kelly collapsed on her large bed and began reading again. Around when midnight struck, she carefully placed the manuscript in her desk drawer and turned out the light. As always, she took her shower in complete darkness; it helped her think.
One of the benefits of living alone is you can talk to yourself without people thinking you've lost your mind, "He seems really nice even though say he's a horrible murderer. I never actually saw him kill anybody and I'm his closest neighbor... Dunno. Maybe it's just Dave making him a scapegoat because he's too lazy to actually find out who really did it... I might go out with him a couple of times if he asks again... Sure. Mom deserves to have grief for asking me to go back to Utah again."
~*~
The next morning, Kelly woke up, feeling the sun shining warmly on her face and smelling the enticing cent of bacon cooking. Groggily, she pulled a sweater over her boxer and tank top pajama ensemble and tied her uncombed hair into a messy braid and went downstairs to see who was in her kitchen. Yawning, she entered the kitchen and found Mort Rainey at the stove, making breakfast. Kelly leaned against the doorframe and said, "I don't believe I permitted this breakfast, Mr. Rainey. Explain yourself. How did you get in?"
Mort walked over to her and handed her a plate of bacon and eggs. "The key in your flower pot. Orange or apple?" He headed over to the fridge, waiting for her answer.
"Orange, please," she said, taking her place at the table. "Why'd you go to all the trouble? I usually just have a bagel or an apple."
Morton poured a glass of orange juice for her. "Can't I do something neighborly for my only neighbor?" he asked.
"What happened to the Hammonds? Did they move?"
"Couple of weeks ago, yeah... Well? Is it against the law for me to make you breakfast every once in a while?" Morton leaned against the counter and started eating his own bacon and eggs. He looked at her expectantly.
Kelly swallowed and said, "No... I was just surprised to find you I my kitchen. That's all."
They finished eating in comfortable silence. As Kelly cleaned up the dishes, Morton asked, "Do you have to go to work today?"
She glanced at the calendar. "No. Why?" She started the dishwasher then made her way to the stairs. He mumbled something. "Sorry?"
He cleared his throat and said, "I wanted to know if you wanted to do something."
Kelly stopped halfway up the stairs, her hand on the seemingly randomly placed door to her right. She turned and looked down at him. "I'm sorry, Morton, but I have a lot to do today. Maybe tonight, okay? Thank you for breakfast; it was the best I've had in a while!" she said, then disappeared upstairs to change. As she shut the bedroom door, she distinctly heard Morton mutter, "Why do I get the feeling you'd rather not be around me?"
Kelly changed into her jeans and black t-shirt reading "Elen sila lumann' omentielvo" in white script on the front with a single silver star on the back, by the bottom. Once she was decent and after she brushed her hair out of the knots and snares, Kelly flew down the stairs and out the front door, calling, "Morton!" Kicking herself mentally for thinking he'd still be in her yard, Kelly started running to his cabin.
When she passed by the tree house she and Ashley built the first summer they were at Tashmore Lake, she heard Morton call, "If you're looking for me, you needn't run so far, Mrs. Dryden."
Kelly slid to a stop and looked up at him. "What're you doing up there?" she asked, grabbing the ladder and starting her ascent.
"Oh, you know, the usual: Sitting, breathing, digesting breakfast, thinking how cute you look climbing up like you used to do," he said as she neared him. Kelly ignored the last as she pulled herself into the tree house and sat next to him. "Nice shirt. Care to share what it means?" She shook her head and waited. "So why have you sought me out in this tree house you yourself so frequently occupy?"
"Well, first off, I'm wondering why you're in my tree house to begin with," Kelly said, a smile playing at her lips. A cloud blew away from the morning sun, letting pure celestial light shine upon her. The light created a sort of a halo around her, shining brilliantly off her fiery red hair. The green of her eyes shone through radiantly, giving them an immortal look. With the small smile playing games with her, she looked almost heavenly sitting among the green branches of the tree house. "But the main reason is I wanted to talk to you about something."
Morton nodded. "Did you know that you look like an angel right now?"
Kelly opened her mouth to say something, then closed it, a confused look on her face. "Darn it! You made me forget what I was going to say! And I do not look like an angel right now!"
Morton was serious, though. "No, you do. You really do. With the sunlight shinning on you this way—in this perfect way, you really do. The color of your hair and eyes really stand out against your surroundings and skin. That smile doesn't hurt, either," he said, lightly touching her cheek.
"Morton, I'm trying to be serious for once in my life."
"And I am serious, Kelly. You look spectacular."
Kelly felt her cheeks flush. She was beginning to feel like a high school girl who was finally getting the attention from the guys she needed. "Morton, I'm sorry if I appear to be avoiding you. It's just... What they're saying about you in town at the diner and what people have told me—warning me, really—about being your neighbor may mean my life really has discouraged me from extending our friendship from mere acquaintances. I'm sorry, but we didn't really know each other very well before the whole 'Shooter' episode happened. If we did, maybe I'd be a little more inclined to trust you enough to be around you more often," she said telling him the stars' honest truth. "I'm really sorry, but that's how I feel about it. I don't mean to be rude or anything, believe me. That's the last thing I want. You just kinda scare me a little. That's all."
He seemed to be contemplating what she said. After a few seconds, he said, "So, if I didn't scare you, you would be more willing to open our lines of communication?"
Kelly nodded, feeling her high school giddiness disappear. Here was an extremely handsome man, sitting in her tree house of all places, telling her she looked angelic, trying to make a relationship work. The sight was not one she would see in a long while, but she didn't feel pressed to savor it. There were rumors flying through town about him and she didn't know if she should trust him or the rumors.
Before Kelly could do anything, he left, nodding a farewell. She didn't call after him as she did before, but leaned against the tree and thought of a way to make up the grievance she gave him...
That evening, while Morton was out taking a walk, Kelly snuck into his cabin and did the only thing a single Mormon woman could do: she made him dinner. They had perfect timing, too. Morton walked in just as Kelly set the table ignoring the word, "Shooter" carved into the beautiful cherrywood table.
He walked into the kitchen, looked around, slightly surprised to find the corn cleared away and stacked, ad asked, "Where did you come from?"
"Well, I'm your neighbor, but I was born in Salt Lake," she said, dishing up a plate of homemade ravioli. "Now sit. This ravioli won't eat itself."
Morton did as she bade and ate while Kelly started cleaning up the mess of a house. The first thing she did was dump all the age-old leftovers down the drain and run the disposal before putting their containers in the dishwasher. She was glad she organized the corn when she did since she didn't think she would've been able to do after examining the fridge. Morton was done eating by the time Kelly was done with the fridge. Without really saying a word, she moved onto the living room and did what she could until Morton stopped her, holding two steaming mugs. "It's all right. Cider." Kelly smiled and accepted the offer before sitting on the couch with him.
She noted an odd feature of the worn couch. "Nice groove you have there. I take it you sleep better on the couch than in your own bed?" she asked, smiling in amusement.
"Welcome to the World-Famous Mort Rainey Sofa, also known as The Couch of the Comatose Writer," he declared proudly. "And, yes, I do sleep better here."
Kelly laughed and nearly spilled her cider. "How typical of an author," she mused, sipping her warm drink, grateful that he honored the fact that she didn't drink coffee or tea even though he had an abundance of both.
Mort chuckled and asked, "Well? What's typical of a publisher? I noticed you've spent a lot of time in that charming tree house of yours."
She thought about it, holding her mug with both hands. "I suppose—at least for me—that the typical publisher falls into the habit of reading after midnight. And..."
Morton saw there were tears glistening her emerald eyes. "And?" he pressed gently.
Kelly wiped her eyes and said, "Once they feel alone, or really are alone, they become used to it and sometimes never again wish for companionship... I'm sorry; I didn't mean—" She was crying openly and place her mug of cider on the coffee table.
Mort set down his own drink and gently pulled her into a warm, strong hug. Kelly sobbed quietly into his shoulder and wrapped her arms around him, closing the embrace. They sat there, in each other's arms, for a few minutes. Morton laid his head on hers and noticed her hair smelled presently of apples; he liked it. Kelly, after her crying ceased, still held onto him and took in the enticing scent of the shaving cream he had used that morning.
When Kelly pulled away from him, she found that she didn't really want to. This sudden feeling of reluctance startled her. She didn't think she was ready to get into another relationship yet, even though she had been widowed for nearly thirteen years by then. "Thank you," she whispered, drying her eyes.
Morton looked at her seriously and said quietly, "If you ever need anything, let me know. All right?"
She rubbed her eyes, nodded and muttered, "Yeah, sure." When she lowered her hands, she realized how close she and Morton were sitting. A pleasantly warm feeling swept over Kelly and she felt a guilty shiver of pleasure in his presence shoot down her spine.
He noticed her tremor and asked, "What is it?"
Kelly found herself on the edge of tears and again as she said, "I think I've been alone for so long and I've gotten so used to it, that..." She sighed and buried her face in her hands.
Morton pulled her into his arms and held her, savoring the warmth animating from her and the ease he felt holding her. Running his fingers through her silky hair, he said, "You've gotten so used to being alone that you're afraid, aren't you?" She nodded. He loosened his grip on her, lifted her chin and murmured, "You shouldn't be afraid, Kelly. It's high time you start anew..."
He slowly leaned in towards her. Kelly hesitated, slightly pulling back. "Don't be afraid. I'm not gonna hurt you. I swear it..." he said even more quietly. Then, without her hesitation, Morton pulled Kelly closer and, after a brief gaze into her enchanting eyes, he kissed her.
Since it had been nearly thirteen years since Kelly had been kissed, she had forgotten how it made her feel to be so close to someone she either loved or had the potential of loving. She could feel the writer's strong hands on her back, upper and lower, holding her closer to him than she would have cared to be the day before. Kelly slipped her left arm around his shoulders and ran the slender fingers of her right hand through his hair, making the embrace all the more close and intense.
~*~
The next thing Kelly knew, she was waking up in Morton Rainey's bed, still clothed in her jeans and t-shirt, but missing something she held very dear: her wedding ring.
"No..." she muttered, starting to panic. It was a simple silver band, etched with "For Time and all Eternity" on the interior, true, but she grew quite fond of it and if anything should happen to it, she wouldn't know what to do. After less than a quarter of a minute, she found it resting by the lamp on the bedside table. Sighing in relief, she slipped the ring on her finger and cautiously left the room, shutting the door silently and looking for Mort. One glance downstairs told Kelly all she needed to know: he was fast asleep on the couch.
Kelly quickly tucked a blanket around him and, as she put on her sweatshirt and slung her purse over her shoulder, he muttered, "Oh, I see how it is." She looked at him, an amused smile on her face. Morton was much handsomer when he had jus woken up. His hair was in a right state, sticking up all over the place. He squinted at her not wearing his glasses. The overall effect sent butterflies fluttering in Kelly's stomach.
She dropped her purse and sat at the edge of the couch, brushed his hair from his face and asked, "How what is?"
"You entertaining my hospitality then try to sneak off while I'm still asleep," he answered, his tenor voice resonating in the back of his throat.
'Entertain his hospitality?' she thought. 'What happened last night?'
Morton pulled her to him and kissed her lightly. "Stick around, Kell. Stay a while," he said, smiling pleasantly.
"Morton, I have church—"
"I'll be over before you even get there," he said, encircling her with his strong arms. "There's only ten minutes left."
Kelly checked her watch. "It starts in ten minutes, Mort. I have to go. I need to," she kissed him lightly, then got her stuff and went home to get ready for church. Exchanging her street clothes for her jean skirt and forest green baby t-shirt, she wished she could remember what happened the night before.
As she drove to the church building, she desperately tried to remember. The last thing she wanted was to take the sacrament unworthily after she had been so good about going to meetings regularly. That particular Sunday was the first of the month—Fast Sunday. Kelly had been fasting every Sunday for a while; fasting for comfort from her Father in Heaven. The comfort seemed slow coming, she oftentimes thought. She didn't feel comfortable to go to church if she had done something she would regret if she could remember it.
When she got to the building, she had about five minutes (she lied when she told Mort she had ten minutes—she had thirty) to spare and was greeted by Bishop Little. "Good morning, Sister Dryden. How are you?"
"Fine, thank you, Bishop," she answered, adjusting her purse slightly. "Do you need me to do something?" Kelly's Bishop had a tendency to pounce right before meetings started.
"Actually, yes," he said, smiling warmly. "Would you please give a singing testimony during Sunday School today?"
Kelly blushed. She hated it when she had to give a singing testimony. It made her feel singled out because she was the only one in the ward who was asked to. "What's the topic?"
"Eternal marriages. I'm sure you can handle it?" he said, a hopeful note in his voice.
Kelly sighed, her blush dieing away. "Sure. I'll sing..."
"Who can say for certain? Maybe you're still here. I feel you all around me, You're memory's so clear. Deep in the stillness, I can hear you speak. You're still an inspiration. Can it be That you are my forever love, And you are watching over me from up above? Fly me up to where you are Beyond the distant star I wish upon tonight to see you smile, If only for a while to know you're there. A breath away's not far to where you are. Are you gently sleeping Here inside my dream? And isn't faith believing All power can't be seen? As my heart holds you Just one beat away, I cherish all you gave me every day. 'Cause you are my forever love Watching me from up above. And I believe That angels breathe And that love will live on and never leave. Fly me up to where you are Beyond that distant star I wish upon tonight to see you smile, If only for a while to know you're there. A breath away's not far to where you are. I know you're there. A breath away's not far to where you are..."
By all worldly recognition, Kelly's marriage to Scot had been terminated the moment he died. But, by Kelly's recognition, she had been married for seventeen years and counting. The sudden feelings of loss and guilt overwhelmed her. She left the room before she broke down in tears before the entire adult population of the ward. Out in the hall, Kelly leaned against the wall and tried to gain hold on her emotions. She was fighting a losing battle.
Moments later, Sister Little, her visiting teacher, entered the hall. "Kelly, talk to me. You've been overly weepy lately. What's going on?"
Kelly looked at her and said, "Y'know what, Jules? I have no idea what's going on. I don't know what to think; I don't know what to do... I'm... I'm going home. Bye." Grateful that it was the third hour, she smiled and left the building.
When she got home, an unfamiliar car was parked in the driveway. Kelly groaned, entered her house and called, "Mom? Dad? What are you doing here?"